A Lady Brought Low
by Tatharwen
Summary: Everyone is judged. Some more so than others. Mila has been judged more than her fair share in her life; she has borne more, she thinks, than God ever intended her to bear. Street life has made her strong, but also perpetually sad and distant. Though many have attempted, none have been able to make her open up. Why, then, does the Trickster try? T for prostitution. Loki/Sigyn as OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- Hey, guys! So, I've written fanfiction before, but this is my first Loki one. Something you might like to know before we get started: this is a Loki/OC and Loki/Sigyn fic. It sounds confusing, but trust me. It's all clarified in the story. Also, updates won't be regular, because I do have school, which comes first.**

**I can't think of anything else I need to say here, so if you do have questions, please tell me in a review. **

**Thank you to my beta, PhoenixWormwood137! **

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_Mila_

Her mind was numb. She couldn't think straight; she couldn't even see clearly for more than a few seconds at a time. Her whole body hurt, and she focused on the pain to keep from dropping to the ground, unconscious, in the other woman's arms.

What had her name been? Pepper? Pepper Potts? Mila couldn't remember how she'd met the woman, but she didn't care. All she knew was that she had offered to take her someplace safe, somewhere where she wouldn't have to sell herself anymore, and she accepted. They took a taxi to Stark Tower, and Mila was in so much pain, she blacked out in the elevator. The next thing she knew she was waking up, stiff and sore, in a large room with blue-painted walls, and a blue comforter on the bed.

Mila panicked for several seconds before remembering the events of the previous night. She got out of bed, joints creaking like she was an old woman, and discovered she was wearing fuzzy Grinch-themed pajamas. Just as she was about to make her way out into the hallway, her door opened and Pepper tiptoed in.

"Oh, hello, Mila! I didn't know you were already awake. How did you sleep?"

"Good, I guess. The last thing I remember is falling down in the elevator, though, so I can't say much." _Lord, do I have morning breath, _Mila thought to herself. "Is there a place where I can take a shower?"

"Yes. Your en suite bathroom is through that door, and there are some clothes in that dresser, although I'm not sure if they'll fit you."

"Thank you." Pepper left, and Mila rifled through the drawers, eventually choosing dark jeans and a large, loose knit sweater. Her aching muscles benefited from a forty-five minute scalding shower with rose-scented body-wash.

Feeling somewhat better, she got dressed, untangled her blonde curls, and padded out into the hallway. She soon discovered she was completely lost. Footsteps sounded to her right, and from around a corner two men in black suits strode toward her.

"Ma'am, please state your name and why you are here," the first one ordered, trapping her between himself and the wall.

More than a little scared, she said, "My name is Mila Meadows, sir. I, um… Pepper Potts brought me here last night."

"Uh-huh," the second one grunted. "Come with me, girl. I'm taking you to see Director Fury."

She was escorted to the end of the hall, where they turned left into a large combined living room/kitchen area. Most of the Avengers, who she recognized from various television broadcasts, stood in a circle with a tall black man speaking at the head, who she assumed was the Director. When they entered, the group of three received a terrifying glare from the man speaking.

"What do you want?" he growled. With a start, Mila realized he had only one eye- there was a patch over his left one. She shuddered to think what the black cloth might be hiding.

"Sir, we found her roaming the halls on this floor. We were unable to ascertain how she entered the building, but she claims Pepper Potts let her in."

Director Fury stepped over to where the two agents and Mila stood. "Well, then why didn't you put her out of the building?"

Pepper, having just entered the room, rushed over to Mila's side. "Director Fury, sir, if I may explain my actions." She waited for permission to speak again.

"Please do, Miss Potts."

Quietly, so the entire room wouldn't hear, Pepper told Fury Mila's story. He thought it over a second, then replied, "Miss Potts, I'm glad you wanted to help this young lady, but just because she was in bad circumstances doesn't mean you can put the entire tower in jeopardy. We have no idea who, if anyone, she's working for."

Steve Rogers came over, always ready to defend a lady. Upon inquiry, her story was told to him as well. He looked puzzled for a moment, but valiantly continued. "I mean no disrespect, sir, but I fail to see how she could be dangerous."

"Captain, it's the most unlikely of people you have to watch out for."

"Still, she poses no great immediate threat."

"I don't care; she's still going to have-" Fury began, but the noisy entrance of two others stopped him.

She dimly heard Thor say, "We heard raised voices- is there a problem?" but she didn't catch Fury's reaction. Mila's attention had been captured by the tall, dark-haired man beside him.

He wore gold armor with black leather underneath, and a green cape flowed behind him. He was preternaturally handsome, but what sent cold chills down her spine was the fact that his lips were sewn shut. Actually, literally, _sewn shut_, with a thick leather cord. It was almost enough to make her puke.

His eyes were like that of a feral animal; wild, uncaring, rabid. They glanced over the entire room in a matter of seconds, coming to rest last of all on Mila. They widened and he took an unconscious step back, more out of surprise than fear, she guessed. He looked her up and down, as if in disbelief. It was like he knew her and had been separated from her for years, and this was this was their unexpected reunion. The only problem was that she had never seen him before in her life.

_Loki_

Loki exited the room behind Thor. His brother had heard raised voices in the living area, and he simply _had _to investigate. Loki decided to follow, just for the hell of it.

"We heard raised voices," Thor exclaimed upon entering, interrupting the dark-skinned man that had been speaking. "Is there a problem?"

Quickly Loki scanned each face in the room. It was an old habit of his; he could barely even remember why he did it- oh. That was why.

The girl stood flanked by two large men. She had the same long, tightly curled locks, the color of old gold. The same heart-shaped face. The same eyes, the color of the sea at twilight. She was even the same height. It was her. It had to be.

Sigyn. His beautiful wife, Sigyn. If he had had the ability to speak, he would've cried out with joy. After all these years, he hadn't expected to find her again. And, having personally met the fey Norns, he hadn't thought they would deem it right for them to meet after all the centuries apart.

Director Fury wasn't blind to the looks that passed between the two. "I think she's going to have to stay here," he said. The one Loki had heard arguing with him was puzzled, and questioned his sudden change of heart, but Loki didn't care what he said.

For the thousandth time he wished he could simply cut the cords binding his lips shut, but they were under the Allfather's spell, and could not be undone until he gave his word. Slowly the pathetic "Avengers," who had been gathered before Director Fury like unwed ladies before Fandral, dispersed, as did the two men flanking the reborn Sigyn. Only Thor, the girl, the Director, and himself remained.

He heard Fury hiss something to the girl, along the lines of, "If you can fix Loki, I'll pay you anything you want." A mumbled and confused series of questions was asked in reply. Fury gave a strained, yet patient answer, and before she had the time to reply, left.

Fix him? Yes, she was, without a doubt, his Sigyn, and he did love her, but he was too damaged to try for a relationship, damaged beyond all hope of repair. If he did, he knew he would hurt her, which was the last thing he wanted. He would content himself with knowing she was there, close to him, for a short amount of time at least. He would have to.

_Mila_

"If you can fix Loki, I'll pay you anything you want," Fury told her in a low voice.

She balked. She hadn't even recognized it as Loki in the first place- none of the news broadcasts had shown his face, just his name- how was she supposed to "fix" him? "What the hell are you thinking? I don't even know him! I've never seen him before in my life! Why should I be the one to "fix" him?"

All Director Fury would say was, "I have a hunch."

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	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. FEEL FREE TO BITCH SLAP ME. But seriously though, school got in the way and it was unavoidable. A few notes about this chapter: first, if Christianity offends you, don't bother to keep reading. Second, for those of you that don't know, peanut butter is a good food to eat for diabetic people or people that have blood sugar problems. **

**Enjoy, and don't forget to review!**

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_Mila_

The change in lifestyle Mila underwent made her think hard about her spirituality. Mila had never been devoutly Christian - she believed that God was up there, but she thought he couldn't possibly love a whore like her. Steve Rogers proved her wrong.

Not two days after she'd moved from the streets, when she was still skeptical about how the whole "not-being-a-prostitute" thing would work, she'd used the name of God in vain in the presence of Steve.

He'd turned to her and said sharply, "Ma'am, I'd rather you not use His name in vain."

"Why not?" she'd replied. "He doesn't love me anyway. I'm just a whore."

He raised his eyebrows at this. "Come here; sit down." Mila did so, though uncertain of his motives.

He sat beside her and clasped his hands on the table. "You ever heard of a man called Jesus Christ?"

"Yeah, of course I have. Who hasn't?"

"You know he died to save you from your sins. All you have to do, Mila, is repent and accept Him as your Lord and Savior, and you will be forgiven for _everything_."

Mila hardly ever went to Church as a child, and after she'd started selling herself, hardly any would let her attend services. The congregations of those that did shot her dirty, judgmental looks throughout the sermon so much so that she had to leave before it was even over. Thus, she knew hardly anything about Christianity.

"And how, exactly, do I do this?" This whole "repenting" thing intrigued her. Perhaps it would be a good way to turn over a new leaf.

"Come to Church with me Sunday. You'll see." She took him up on his offer, and the following Sunday, they attended Church together.

As always, she received glares, but Steve told her to ignore them. They held an impromptu baptism, and she experienced Communion for the first time. She liked it – the traditions that had survived through millennia, the history, but most of all she loved the fact that there was a God benevolent enough to love even a street urchin like herself. Mila exited the sanctuary a changed woman. Every day since then, as she read more and more of the Bible, her faith grew. She came to think of Thor and Loki not as gods, but simply as people with special powers.

However, her life on the street had changed her, in ways that could not be undone with one baptism. Mila would always feel the weight of judgment; she would always hide any emotion from anyone that might be in danger of caring about her; and she would never be able to live a normal life again, not after the things she'd done for money.

Two more weeks passed in Stark tower without anything particularly interesting happening. During that time, the Avengers were called out on a mission for about two days, leaving Loki and Mila there alone (with a few armed S.H.I.E.L.D. grunts in every room, of course). Mila was forlornly making her breakfast in the kitchen under the watchful eye of a six foot four inch former Greco-Roman wrestler when it happened. It came on slowly, as she was stirring scrambled eggs in the skillet. She ignored it at first. By degrees Mila got shakier and shakier, until she could no longer hold the spatula without dropping it. Mila needed peanut butter, and fast.

Her body's sugar level had become too low. The guard in the back of the room didn't appear to notice anything, but Loki did as he casually ambled past the doorway. Instantly he was beside her, fending off the guard and supporting her with a cold hand on her back. She pointed weakly at the Peter Pan label, and he unscrewed the lid. Mila, too weak even to lift the spoon for herself, had to let Loki feed her several mouthfuls, as if she were a little kid.

It didn't take Mila long to recover after that. Her eggs were burnt to a crisp, but her appetite had disappeared. She was, however, curious. Why had Loki done that for her? She wanted to ask him, but she needed to sit down first. She threw out the burnt eggs and put the skillet in the sink. Loki followed her into the living room; as he passed the threshold, he shot the guard a withering look. The man shrank back under the weight of it.

Mila sat down on the expensive-looking leather couch and sighed. She wanted to be scared of Loki, she did. After all, he was the man that had trashed New York City last year. But she couldn't, not when he'd looked at her like he had when they'd first seen each other, and especially not after what he'd just done. Also, Thor had revealed to her one day that the majority of his power lay in sorcery and speech, both of which had been bound by Odin as punishment.

Loki had taken a pad of paper and a pencil off of the coffee table and was writing something. He handed it to her, and on it was written, _Are you alright? _

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine now." Mila furrowed her brow. "But why do you care? You haven't said anything to me before now."

Loki scratched something into the paper, only to erase it and rewrite something much longer. _The dolt of a guard was not doing anything to assist you. I could not leave you there to suffer. _

"Why not? I mean, I'm not complaining or anything, but you seem to hate everyone else. Why am I different?" Mila was genuinely curious.

Loki didn't write anything else for quite a while, lost in thought. _The others are pathetic, _he wrote, paused a moment, and continued. _They know nothing of pain. In you I sense something else. You know what it is, I think, to be judged and hated for who you are, to always be thought the lesser. Perhaps we are kindred spirits. Perhaps not. I have refrained from communicating with you thus far, for I did not want to scare you. When I saw you shaking in the kitchen, I could not help myself. _

"Can you read minds?" Mila asked. His guess had been frighteningly accurate, and as far as Mila knew, no one had told him her story.

_In my current state, no. Why do you ask?_

"Because your people senses are scary good, that's why." She'd have to be more careful about what emotions she displayed.

He seemed surprised by the compliment, but thanked her with a few scratches of his pencil nonetheless. Mila replied, "Loki, do you want to be friends?" Her words surprised even her when she said them, but she knew she meant them. Usually Mila wasn't that forward with people that weren't going to pay her afterward.

_I do not think that is the best idea, Mila._

"Why not, Loki? I mean, sure, you're crazy, but you said yourself we were kindred spirits."

_Do you not realize I am the man that led the attack on this very city not twelve months ago? You wish to befriend that man?_

Mila nodded. "Yes, I do, for a few reasons. First, because you kind of just saved my life. Second, because I won't let you hurt me," she explained. Softer, she added, "and third, because I believe everyone can change. Even you." Nick Fury's offer of payment didn't even cross her mind.

_Balderdash. I am too far gone for change, but I'll not stop you from doing what you wish. If you wish to be my associate, so be it. You will have only yourself to blame if you get hurt, for I have warned you._

Mila smiled. "Now that we're friends, I have to ask you something. It's been bothering me ever since I first saw you."

_Yes? _

"How do you eat? Like, do you just not need to anymore, or what? This is really bothering me."

A mischievous light came into his eyes, and he replied with: _Well, if it sincerely bothers you… I won't tell you. _

"Come on, Loki! Please tell me," Mila whined.

_No. _

Mila frowned. "You're mean."

_You give up so easily, Mila? I expected a bit more perseverance, especially from you. _His emerald green eyes danced with impish delight as he looked at her. If she was being honest with herself, it enhanced his already extremely handsome appearance, but she wasn't. Being friends with him was one thing, going _there_ was another.

But she didn't have to dwell on those thoughts long. Just then, most of the Avengers burst through the door, smelling like stale sweat. Thor went straight for Loki, smiling oafishly.

"Brother! How have you been?" he yelled, clapping him on the back.

Loki's mood changed in an instant. He got up, glared at his foster brother, and stormed out of the room. Thor looked after him for a second, looking mildly hurt, but not for long. "Lady Mila! How have you fared?" he exclaimed upon recognizing her.

"I've been alright, Thor," Mila answered simply. She wasn't in the mood for talking any longer; after her conversation with Loki, she had some things she needed to figure out.

Unfortunately, Tony Stark had other ideas. He'd just walked in from the elevator. "Hey, new girl! I heard you talked to Reindeer Games."

"Yes, Tony, I did. He talked to me first, actually."

That caused both his and Thor's eyebrows to shoot into their hair. "What?!" they yelled, almost simultaneously. Apparently, this wasn't something Loki normally did.

"You heard what I said," Mila breathed, standing. "If you'll excuse me, I have things to do that don't require the presence of two testosterone-high poster boys for Muscle Milk." Mila turned on her heel and left, leaving both of them speechless.

Back in her room, she fell face-first onto the bed. The girl had several questions for herself. She knew why Loki had come to her rescue- or at least she thought she did. Something about what he'd written felt like a lie. Regardless, she wanted to know why he'd made her forget her perpetual sadness, just for a few minutes, and be her old self. The woman she was before she'd been forced to be a common whore. Why had the man who called himself the "god of lies and mischief", the craziest dickbag on the planet, had made her happy when he'd conversed with her?

Perhaps it was because he was the first person in two years to actually seem to take a vested interest in who she was as a person. When she was a prostitute, all they'd cared about was sex, not surprisingly. Not even the other people on the street had bothered to talk to her. It had crushed her once-vibrant personality and buried it in a deep, dark dungeon in the furthest corners of her soul.

But Mila had to remember she was dealing with Loki; the one who cared about nothing and nobody if they couldn't do something for him. But, if that was the case, why had he aided her in the kitchen earlier? Mila knew for a fact she hadn't done anything for him in the past, and she didn't plan on doing anything for him in the future.

Mila shook her head. _I'm overthinking this way too much, _she thought. Ever since she was a little girl, she'd had a tendency to overthink things, and the only way she knew to make herself stop was to sing. She began with her favorite hymn, _Amazing Grace_:

_Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound  
That saved a wretch like me…  
I once was lost, but now am found  
Was blind, but now, I see._

She repeated it over and over again, at varying levels of volume. Since she'd come to Stark Tower, the hymn had become her anthem.

Mila didn't know how long she sang, but it was for quite a while. The rhythmic repetition of the song drove out all other thoughts and sounds from her head, and lulled her into soft sleep.

_Loki_

Strains of music, a song of a God unknown to him, reached his ears. That voice - ethereal yet somehow full of vibrant life - that voice was unmistakable. That was the voice of Sigyn.

Most, if not all, had known her as a goddess of fidelity. Loki knew her as the goddess of music as well. Sigyn's voice could reach notes others hardly knew even existed. Her hands would caress the keys of a piano like a lover. She would hold a violin like a newborn babe in her hands, and coax from it the most beautiful music the world had ever seen.

He had to stop himself several times from getting up and moving closer. If she sang with sadness pervading her every word, as she did now, he could do naught but disturb her.

But oh, how he wanted to go to her, to take her in his arms and never let her go from him again. It was an impossibility he longed for, just as his dream of ruling Midgard had been an impossibility. Yes, he still wished to rule the mortals, for they were like sheep without a shepherd. He had realized, however, that they would choose who they wanted to rule them, regardless of how good a leader their choice would turn out to be. Mortals were idiotic, stupid excuses for life forms. Loki knew Mila did things sometimes that were stupid and idiotic, but it was impossible for him to look at her and not see the soul of Sigyn behind her eyes, no matter how deeply buried it was in mortal trappings.


End file.
